A Gamer's Guide To Beating The Tutorial

“So, when’s the next one? I’m in great shape, I could take anyone on right now!”

Moleman rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. Proudly. “You took a sword to the stomach. How the heck are you in great shape?”

I pout at him. “Don’t underestimate my auto-healing skills, Moleman. With my skills, I can lose an arm or two and be fine within the hour! Or the next couple of hours, at least.”

He chuckles at me. “In that case, you might as well drop an arm or two.” I perk an eyebrow at him. In reply, he simply points at the tournament schedule. Let’s see, floor eighteen versus floor twenty semi-finals… My jaw falls open. “Yep, it’s in four hours.”

“F—four hours?! Why? How?”

“Well,” Moleman says, “there’s a lot of quarter-finals to be done before then. Mine included.” He winks at me. To mock him, I do a one-at-a-time frog blink. It makes him laugh. Suddenly, he turns solemn. “Though, before that…”

“Brunch?” I suggest. It makes him chuckle, successfully lightening the mood, if only a little.

“I don’t think they have that at the courthouse.”

“Not even as a final supper?”

He pauses in his step. “...We don’t know that yet.”

I don’t correct him. But the mood has shifted. Nevertheless, we head towards the courthouse. My steps feel light. Making Moleman a little proud was a good final act, I think. It may not have been as effective as some other strategies, but if I’m not alive four hours from now, then it doesn’t matter.

We approach the courthouse. It’s early, and it’s not like the leaderships are open about when the trial takes place, so not a lot of people are gathered. We approach the entrance without issue, open it, and…

“Huh? You need more time?” Moleman asks the person in the doorway. The secretary, I think.

She nods in reply and affixes her glasses. “Yes, the deliberation is still ongoing. It likely won’t finish before the solo tournament concludes.”

“I see, that’s too bad…” Moleman says. “In that case, I guess we’ll just have to keep fighting in the tournament to pass the time. Right, Kitty?”

I give him an ‘are-you-kidding-me’ look. Should I be surprised or relieved that he still has this much sway over the leaderships? Either way, he’s waiting for a response, so after a few seconds, I reply, “Yeah. Right.”

“Great!” Moleman says. “In that case, we’ll be back later, and, for now…” He smiles sheepishly. “Brunch?”

I want to point out that he really didn’t need to pretend about this whole thing, but the suggestion to get food is overpowering, and I can do nothing but agree as we go grab food.

On the way to the bazaar, I have time to think it through. He doesn’t need to know I know. Considering his current position in the leadership, with the way they treated him yesterday… He must have pulled every string he had to make this happen, maybe even snapping a few of them. All to let me participate in the tournament.

There’s no need to spend the final hours we have together talking about useless things. So, while we buy some drake skewers, I decide to talk about other stuff instead. Future fights. Our future fight. Tease him about what’ll happen once I beat him. Make silly jokes about random things that don’t matter. We went and watched Rice’s match, and it was as impressive as expected.

When the time came, I even went and watched his quarter-finals. It was exciting, and although he unsurprisingly won in the end, the fight itself was still really cool. I think he might have used different spells than he did last time, but when I asked about it he wouldn’t answer.

And just like that, the hours passed peacefully.

<11:03:32

Day 544>

26:12:56:28>

Day 5 of 5>

It’s time.

We enter the vomitorium.

Before I headed straight to the preparation room, I decided to check the schedule, just to know the name of the guy I was up against. However, what I found was far worse.

“He—he surrendered?!” I exclaim.

Next to me, Moleman shrugs. “Can’t say I’m surprised.” I give him a hopefully only mildly incredulous look. “Sure, you didn’t kill her or anything—which I’m very proud of—but it was still a fairly intimidating display. Not to mention that your level was—let’s see… Yeah, almost twice as high as his. Surrendering beforehand was a wise choice.”

I wave my hands in the air to try to make the words go. “Well, yeah, maybe, but… Still!”

Moleman easily capitulates. “Still a shame, yeah.”

Frowning, I check at what time I’ll finally get to fight. Let’s see here, floor eighteen in the finals… “Thirteen-thirty? Half to two!? I can’t wait that long! What kind of—”

“Hey, no need to be upset about it, alright?” Moleman says, trying his best to calm me down. “You’ll get to fight eventually.”

“But I want to fight now…” I grumble, which is admittedly a little childish. I just… I was really looking forward to it, okay? Nevertheless, two hours isn’t too bad. Less than last time. It gives up plenty of time to… “Hey, Moleman.” He tilts his head at me. “I’ll stop sulking if you treat me to lunch.”

“I treated you to brunch less than an hour ago!” he complains, but going by the smile, I know I’ve won already. “Is there nothing but food that makes you happy?”

I rub my chin. “I’m not sure it’s advisable for me to answer that from a legal standpoint.”

“I’m your lawyer. I’ve got a vow of silence. You can tell me anything.”

“That’s a misconception and you know it!”

We chuckle and head to lunch. A while later, we watch Rice’s semi-finals match, and then Moleman’s. And then, finally, it’s time for me to have my match.

I’m in the arena. On the other side stands my opponent, a middle-aged man with a scythe. He looks pretty tough. A few seconds ago, I was pretty excited to fight him. But that’s all changed. Now, the arena simply echoes with the sound of what he just said.

“Yeah, uh, I’d like to surrender.”

So now I’m staring at him, and he’s looking down at the floor.

“How impressive! That’s the quickest surrender we’ve seen inside the arena so far! Might Kitty have some special skill that lets him sap the will to fight with a mere glare?” Pain narrates. “Nevertheless, with the floor sixteen winner having surrendered, that means Kitty moves on to—”

“W—wait just a minute,” I say. “We didn’t—I didn’t even—”

Not waiting for me to explain why we should fight if just a little, the scythe guy turns around and jumps into the moat.

“Ouch, what a retreat! Seems like Kitty got the cold shoulder. Either way, this means Kitty will now continue in the Spiral of Death! As is customary, our current finalist will be offered a ten-minute break to recover from any injuries incurred in the last battle. So, what do you say, Kitty? Do you want to take a little nap before continuing?”

“No, I don’t need a nap, damn it! I want to fight!” I shout at him, shaking my fist. This is probably the closest I’ve ever gotten to cursing God.

“Great, that’s what we love to hear! In that case, I would like to welcome our next challenger to the scene. Everyone give a big welcome to TinCanGoodness of the twenty-fourth floor Hard Difficulty, weighing in at a stunning level of fifty-six!”

He arrives. A piercing light in the darkness, descending like an angel to rescue the poor and downtrodden. A dove’s blessing to a lonesome funeral.

Big, burly, buff. A man roughly the size of a barge, or maybe even bigger. Hard to tell. And then with the gapless armor and the mace in one hand, shield in the other… He looks like a dragon slayer or something. The only thing offsetting the perfect knight visage is that the armor is a light shade of pink, but that’s forgivable.

A real fight.

I’m too excited to even pay attention as Pain goes through the regular spiel of asking if we’re ready, and then the countdown, and… go!

I fly across the arena, heart beating out of my chest, legs aflight with guidance from both mind and instinct, ready to run or to leap away or to curl up if the need presents itself. Claws at the ready, mouth half-open, I attack, every muscle in my tawny body clenched and ready to let skin taste blood.

Except, once I get close, something is wrong. There’s an odd smell that shouldn’t be here, and a sound I haven’t heard before, like hail on a tin roof or nails against nails.

My eyes focus on a chink in his armor at the level of his chest, a spot where my claws will fit perfectly to preface the amazing fight to come, but as I come nearer and as my hands shoot out to gauge him open, I find myself freezing in place, needle-sharp nails mere millimetres from his wide open chest.

The sound is him trembling.

…Huh? Wait a moment, that isn’t—

The mace falls out of his hand, the shield soon following suit. In the gap in his helmet, I can see a pair of terrified eyes staring down at me.

“I—I give up—” he says between tiny panting breaths.

I blink at him in equal parts astonishment and indignation. “No, wait,” I say. “What are you—”

He falls to his knees. This massive, hulking warrior of a man falls to his knees before me, his armor clinking and his weight kicking up dust around him. Even on his knees, he remains massive, now at the height of my chest. His trembling hands move into the air, palms up, like he’s submitting to arrest. “Please, please don’t kill me,” he whimpers.

“I’m not—” Okay, I might have, but… “Why the heck are you surrendering? I didn’t even lay a finger on you!”

“Please, please,” he says, sniveling like an idiot, going so far as to tear up. No, not just tear up, he’s full on crying. What the heck is even going on anymore? Is someone pulling a prank on me? Am I on reality TV? Where are the cameras? I’m not laughing, damn it!

“Ooh, what a shame! It seems yet another one of Kitty’s playmates has decided to bail on him. Isn’t that tragic? Well, since the twenty-fourth floor challenger has surrendered, we’ll have no choice but to move on,” Pain narrates insufferably. “Will someone please remove TinCanGoodness from the arena? Oh, thank you, Compassion!”

Turning away from Pain, I watch in stunned offense how a pair of goddess of compassion clones literally drag the poor guy off the stage.

H—hey, that was my challenger! Give him back, damn it—!